Ink Bleeding
by Alesanaa
Summary: Meggie and her Father try to solve the mystery of Resa, Meggie's mother. Can they do it without being sucked into a story themselves? Review and Suscribe, please  ;
1. To Aunt Elinor's House We Go!

I stared out the window absentmindedly as my father rambled on about Aunt Elinor. Honestly, I didn't want to see her. But what choice did a 12 year old have? Father couldn't raise me alone. He needed help; and the only living relative that I had was Aunt Elinor.

"Dad, what happened to mother?" It was a sudden question that I knew the answer to. I always asked him the same question so reality didn't pound me into a perfect child.

He was silent for a moment. When he finally did speak, it was quiet and numb sounding. "Meggie, you know what happened." I scratched at my itchy scarf that hung around my neck like a noose.

"But I want you to tell me again." I said, my heart tugging at the corners for that longing that I always had for a mother.

"When you were a baby, I read a book." He began. Questions were already forming in my head, the same ones that he never answered. "Same characters came out, and in return, your mother was sucked in."

"What book was it?" I asked impatiently. We were almost to Aunt Elinor's, and I knew we wouldn't –couldn't- discuss it there.

He sighed. "Meggie, I've already told you I'm not telling you which one it is. You already know that." I stomped my foot down as we screeched to a stop at Aunt Elinor's. The white house looked more like a mansion than a house, personally. "Now, behave."

I hesitated for a moment, but then opened the car door gingerly. Three large balconies stood over the front glass door, and windows that were scattered amongst the whitewash were open, the breeze blowing in like nobody's business.

"Do we have to?" I changed the subject out loud, even though my thoughts remained on my mother.

"Meggie." Father warned, opening the SUV's trunk and pulling out a couple boxes of our things.

Now, you may be thinking that my father is a strict man. But let me correct you, he isn't. Father's name is Mo, and he really loves me and books. Mo is a bookbinder, a special one at that. He can read anything you want and it comes true. We used to spend hours reading, day and night, until we got tired of reading the same book. We never read out loud, though. That's how my mother got sucked into the book, I think.

Honestly, it's an awesome thing to have. You could read people riches, shelter, rivers, just about anything you wanted. But not Dad. He thinks it's a terrible gift to have. He kicks himself harder than he needs to.

"Here, I'll help." I grabbed a tumbling box and held it in front of me. The cardboard was ice cold underneath my fingers; it was blowing around like mad.

"Can you knock on the door, Meg?" Dad heaved, piling the boxes in his hand higher and higher.

"Sure, but don't overload yourself. We can make a second trip." I called over my shoulder, reaching the front door. I raised my one hand to knock, but before I could, someone opened the door.

"And if it isn't Mortimer's daughter, Meggie!" Aunt Elinor laughed.


	2. What The Wolf!

I raised my green eyes to look at the skeleton woman in front of me. Her dress was a midnight black with a silver shawl wrapped around her frail shoulders. Strands of fly away hair swirled around her white bun. "H-Hello Aunt Elinor." I stammered, hugging the boxes to my chest.

"Hello, child." Her words made me shiver and almost drop the boxes. "Where's your father?"

"By the car." I turned my head to look at Dad, who struggled climbing up the concrete steps.

"Hello… Elinor… It's…Been…Awhile." He puffed, steam leaking from his mouth. I frowned at him, reaching out a freezing hand to help him steady the box.

"Mortimer! Yes, dear, it's been a while." She snatched the box from my hand, and let dad step inside. "Meggie, you can go across the street and play with the girl." Elinor shot me a scowl and slammed the door on my face.

I stuck out my tongue and turned on my heel, but I didn't head across the street. I looked around at the landscape. Honestly, I didn't know what I was expecting, but I was surprised. The grass was neatly cut and evenly green, a small birdbath spurting water from the middle of the yard.

I saw a small white door behind the side of the house, and my fingers mechanically reached for the knob. "I wonder what's behind here." I murmured aloud, turning to ice cold knob to the right and pushing the door open.

A howl erupted from behind, and I jumped backwards a few steps to peer inside. The backyard was fenced in, and a rather large crate sat in the center. Taking a few small steps, I tried to open the cage up. Something nipped my fingers, and I pulled back onto my back.

Blood drizzled from my pointer finger and my middle finger. I frowned at the cage when it burst open. A huge wolf-like thing broke open the door, and I screamed in horror. Drool drizzled down its jaws, which contained hundreds of razor sharp teeth. "Aunt Elinor!" I cried, squeezing my fingers together as I stood up and started running toward the open door.

The wolf grabbed my heel and pressed down on it, and I landed on my stomach with a _thud_. I cried out in pain and tried to kick the beastly thing in the face. Somebody yelled my name. My vision blurred at the edges, and Dad came bounding out with a baseball bat.

"Dad." My voice sounded distant, far away. Warmth spread around my ankle and leg, making it sticky and disgusting. My vision was blackening. A squeal came from the thing, and I closed my eyes.

"What's happening, Elinor?" I heard Dad slam the crate door shut and smelled his breath on my face. "What did that thing do to her?"

"I'm sorry, Mortimer! I didn't know…" Dad brushed his fingers across my face. "I didn't know she would do that!"

"Where did even get this wolf?" Mortimer shouted at her.

"Remember when you read to her Little Red Riding Hood? And the wolf came out? Where did you think it had to go?"

"Elinor, just call an ambulance." My dad sounded weary and tired, but I felt something cold hit my face. He was crying.

Now, you might think "Well, It's no big deal. He's crying." But if you knew my dad very well, then you would know that he only cried whenever Risa –my mother- was sucked into the book. He cried for weeks, only stopping to take care of me. So, when my father cries, it was pretty bad. Distraught.

I opened my eyes to him. "Daddy, don't cry." I whispered, my voice sounding parched. "I'll be okay. I won't leave you."

"Oh Meggie." He took off his jacket and laid it on me. "What should I tell them? What should I tell _you?_"

"What was she saying," Big swallow, "about the wolf thing?"

"Meggie, I'll tell you when you're well." His voice was cracking at the sound of roaring beeps and flashing lights. "But what should I tell them?"

"Put me over by those rocks and tell them I fell off." I murmured, feeling my head. "I think I'll go into a coma soon; I hit my head. It'll be…" And my words were cut off by the bursting of a gate and footsteps pounding on the sidewalk.


End file.
